memory’s so treacherous
”Oh, I could not possibly comment,” Finn says of Cian, wondering if the Eye would toe the line for anyone, let alone for someone like Falke’s assistant. Straightening his shirt (it’s impossibly creased, there’s nothing he can do for it), he does indeed seem a little relieved as she gives him the cue to leave. Not necessarily because he wants to, but because now there is no expectation on him to provide small talk.
”Thank you for your help,” he murmurs, nodding to her gratefully, and he is indeed already walking out of the office when she joins him. Finn glances down at her, his hands in the pockets of his pants, as if to inform her that he can’t comply quite the way he wants to. ”I will do my best,” he assures her. ”Where are you headed now...?”
”Thank you for your help,” he murmurs, nodding to her gratefully, and he is indeed already walking out of the office when she joins him. Finn glances down at her, his hands in the pockets of his pants, as if to inform her that he can’t comply quite the way he wants to. ”I will do my best,” he assures her. ”Where are you headed now...?”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
